Yesterday, while sitting down to a late dinner (Birthday weekend is upon us, thus did Daddy have to make a trip to Toys R Us after school), the following story was related to me by Beloved.
Makoto picked a flower.
Ok, let me expand that, Makoto picked a flower out of one of the flower planters at school, said planters contain flowers that his class is growing for their up-coming Sport's Day Festival. The day before yesterday, Makoto was confronted by Beloved and his teacher about this and, well, lied. He told them that he had found the flower outside of the planter and that he, Makoto did not actually pick it.
Now the teacher and Beloved both knew Makoto was lying, or rather, they suspected him of it, but they didn't actually see it and couldn't actually charge him with it. That's what made his actions yesterday morning that much more surprising. Makoto admitted that he had indeed picked the flower, had in fact done so because he wanted to bring it home and give it to Hikaru (Everyone now, Awwww). He then said that he would apologize to his teacher for this.
It gets better.
Beloved, as per Japanese culture, went with him to apologize as well (Her son did it after all), but Makoto told his teacher that he needed to talk to her and went with the teacher into the classroom by himself, with no mother to provide support. There, embarrassed because his friends were standing there wondering what was going on, he admitted what he did, apologized, and bowed.
I called him over to confirm this story (Always get it from the horse's mouth after all) and confirm it he did. He was scared he said, but he knew he had to do it.
I was so proud of him I thought my heart would burst.
It's kind of a mix, on one hand he's following Japanese culture to apologize for causing distress to another, but on the other hand, he also was following a more American idea of standing up and admitting your faults by yourself. It's all Makoto though, and was a good moment.
Until I was informed that Hikaru got into a fight at nursery school with his friend and both toddlers were trading punches.
A father's work is never done.